


RoD Drabbles

by lovehugsandcandy



Category: Ride or Die (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2020-10-17 21:28:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 12,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20627816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovehugsandcandy/pseuds/lovehugsandcandy
Summary: Throwing drabbles in here





	1. Chapter 1

“Oh my God!”

“I think you want to be a little bit quieter that.” Colt’s voice was teasing but the pivot of his hips and the insistent way he filled her let Ellie know that her satisfied yelp was definitely appreciated.

He didn’t want her to be quiet at all. He wanted her screaming, shaking, and falling onto the mattress and out of her mind. But they had to be quiet, hidden away in her childhood bedroom, in her childhood bed, where her father, her _detective_ father, her _gun-owning_ detective father was mere steps down the hall. If they weren’t here, if they were anywhere else, Colt would take it as a personal affront if she still had a voice when he was done with her.

“Colt, I-” Her moan was cut off with a gasp as he trailed his lips down her neck, curving across the delicate skin to gently dig his teeth into the top of her spine. “Oh my God.”

He smirked, trailing his lips lower, a tease along the line of her back, fingers picking up where his tongue couldn’t reach, tracing a fingernail lower and lower to the small of her back. His hips kept up the steady tempo, the pivot of his hips meaning he could drag his cock against where she was most sensitive, where hidden nerves would send tremors up her spine and through her limbs as she got closer and closer to the edge.

His hand trailed around her hip, never leaving her skin, until it dipped lower and lower and found one of the many spots on her body he knew by heart. He could find the curve of her neck with his eyes closed, could zero in on the square inch of skin that, when his lips applied just the right amount of pressure, made Ellie let out a guttural moan that almost made him lose control. He could find her nipples by touch alone, where drawing just the right circles with the pads of his fingers could make her legs twitch and her nails dug crescent divots into his sides. And, of course, he could find her clit, index finger able to instinctively move just so, muscle memory providing the combination to make Ellie fall apart.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my-” The words were replaced by a whine, high in her throat, as the patterns edged her higher and higher. He could tell by her body that she was close, core tensing around his cock and threatening to drive him out if his mind, thighs shaking in front of him with every thrust smoothly bringing him deeper and deeper inside her.

“Colt-Colt, I’m gonna-” He only needed to bring their hips together one more time, slide his finger against her just right, and she was gone, body shaking underneath him as her hands gave out and she frantically tried to muffle her scream with a pillow.

And then one more thrust and he followed, shaking, as pleasure poured from his veins and her muscles squeezed around him, chasing every thought from his mind.

When they both came back to earth, he slid onto the bed next to her, dropping open-mouthed kisses to the back of her neck.

“Oh my God.”

He smirked and pulled her closer, arm wrapped around her shoulder. “You can call me God. I don’t mind.”

“You narcissist.” She was shaking her head but he could see the smile playing on her lips.

“Hey, you were on your knees for _me_.”

Her open slap echoed on his chest. “Don’t be vulgar.”

“First I’m God, then I’m vulgar. Make up your mind.”

“God of vulgarity?”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “God of blowing your mind?” He looked down her body, studying the places where the flush was beginning to fade.

“Are you seriously ready to go again?” She obviously saw where his eyes were focused.

“Not yet but you are.” He skating his hand down her stomach, lower, slipping through her folds to gather her wetness on his fingers.

“This time you can get on your knees for me.”

He slid off the bed, pulling her hips to the edge so he could taste the wetness from the source and looked up with a smirk. “With pleasure.”


	2. Chapter 2

At first, she thought it was the pipes, shuddering with the stress of multiple people sharing the same bathroom. As she listened closer, she realized it was the door. Someone was knocking, now pounding, door shaking slightly.

“WHAT?” She worked the conditioner through her hair. She was only on step three of the intricate nine step process of her shower ritual and she would be damned if she was going to stop now. “I can’t hear you.”

More indiscriminate yelling. Ellie hummed. Maybe they would go away. Or drop dead.

She waited but it seemed to be getting louder. This was really disturbing the sanctity of her shower time.

“What!?!” She pulled back the curtain, leaning her head out. “Just open the door, I can’t hear you.”

“Why the hell didn’t you lock it?” Colt stuck his head in. “And Jesus, are you going to be much longer? I’ve been working all day.”

“Why don’t you use the shower downstairs?”

“Shit water pressure.” Colt opened the door wider, steam billowing out past his head. “Are you going to be much longer?”

“Yes.”

“What the fuck. Ellie, come on.” He stepped closer, his bare feet landing on the bath mat as Ellie blinked water from her eyes. He was covered in grease, t-shirt and basketball shorts marked by thick lines that continued onto his muscular forearms. Ellie swallowed. The bathroom attached to Logan’s loft was tiny and she realized how close Colt was to her, how the only thing separating them was a flimsy shower curtain. She was sure the shadowed outline of her naked body was visible through the shower curtain.

“Could you leave?” She hoped her blush was masked, attributed to the heat of the shower and not the dirty thoughts in her mind.

“Could you hurry up?”

“This is my bathroom!”

“Oh, is your name on the sign outside?” He stepped closer, challenge clear, eyes trained on her face. He was inches from the shower curtain; if Ellie just opened her fist, her hand would brush his chest and the shower curtain would fall, and they would be in an even more indecent position.

“You’ve been back for like a month, I don’t think you own this place.”

“You definitely don’t!” 

“I’m staying up here!”

“Yeah, with the my replacement, great.” He threw his hands in the air; the line of grease on his cheekbone was driving her insane. She just wanted to wipe it off, reveal the flawless face underneath. “Can you just hurry up?”

She narrowed her eyes at him and raised her chin so she could look him full in the face. “Make me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Make. Me.”

The words were barely out of her mouth when he pulled the shower curtain open and stepped in, fully clothed, water sluicing down his hair, soaking his clothes, as he backed Ellie into the wall. His eyes were glued to her face but she could see it was a struggle to not look down, not to scope out where soap was lathered on over bare skin.

He leaned in closer. “What did you say?” Ellie had to pull her eyes from where the water was darkening his grey t-shirt, line of color traveling lower and lower as the water rained down.

“Make-” She had to swallow as he leaned in closer, so close that the water dripping from his chin was falling on her, scorching droplets on her breasts. “Jesus Christ, just kiss me.”

The words were barely out when his lips met hers hungrily; she was being kissed with the force of an invading army, her body the battleground where tempers and heat and fire met. The fire was starting now, low in her stomach.

His hands slid into her hair to pull her impossibly closer, but he pulled back with a confused look on his face. “What is this?” His hands were white with conditioner, goop sticking in between his fingers as he stared.

“Logan’s conditioner?” There was a pause as he raised an eyebrow at her. “What?” she continued, shrugging. “He has really nice hair.” Colt’s eyebrow went higher as she smirked. “Maybe even better than yours.”

“Nothing of his is better than mine.”

“His hair?”

Colt’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll show you something I can do better than him.”

Ellie’s breath caught in her throat as she choked on air, the glint in his eyes making it crystal clear what activity he was referencing. His hands traced down, made slick by the conditioner and the soap on her skin, running circles around her nipples, her stomach, and a teasing touch lower that made her moan. He moved closer, pinning her against the wall as his lips attacked her neck, chasing the water as it fell, fingers gripping her hips to hold her in place. The shower was pounding behind him, steam rising and bathing the room in a hazy curtain, but she could barely hear it over the pounding in her ears.

She tried to step backwards as his teeth grazed a nipple but there was nowhere to go, the wall behind her and his insistent hands, now stroking her inner thighs, caging her in. He dropped to his knees and she keened, her hand flying to his hair, fingers fumbling over the wet strands before she was able to hold on and steady herself.

She couldn’t breathe, soft kisses across her stomach taking air from her lungs, gasping for oxygen as his lips trailed lower, teeth and tongue teasingly tracing her curves, lower and lower as her world narrowed to their points of connection: his hands gripping her waist, his lips over her hipbone, his tongue tickling her upper thigh. As soon as he found her clit, she realized she wasn’t steady at all, her head dropping back onto the tile behind her.

She had to throw her hand in front of her mouth, biting hard on the back to muffle the noises dripping from her mouth. His tongue was moving, swirling, insatiably pulling sparks and flames from her core as her body involuntarily shook. The attention paid to her body was maddening. All she could feel was pleasure, eyes affixed to the ceiling as her hand clutched his hair. She didn’t even notice when he slid two fingers inside of her, the yelp audible even though her hand and over the water. He moved his fingers and his tongue as if he had something to prove, as if he was intent on showing her just who could bring her to the peak.

She tried to watch, to look down and see where her hand was clasped in his hair, to see his face as he knelt between her legs, but she couldn’t do it, head again falling back against the tiles with an thud. The pleasure was making her lose control of her body, toes curling, plaintive gasps flying from her mouth to the ceiling as if she were praying for the shaking of her muscles and quivering in her core to carry her away.

It only took another minute, maybe two, of his tongue and his fingers moving in a maddening pattern, inside her, over her skin, through her folds, everywhere, all at once. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. And she definitely couldn’t hold off her orgasm, pulled from her by his clever fingers and clever tongue touching every single spot that made her weak, that made her wet, that made her pull his hair and hold him right _there _as her eyes squeezed shut.

“_Coooolt_,” she moaned long, low, unsteady voice matching the quake of her body as her vision went white and the world was pleasure and warmth, everything else falling away. She came back slowly, barely registering the flow of water over her as her eyes focused on the form in front of her.

He was soaked, hair plastered to his head and clothes clinging to his body, corded muscles of his chest and arms clearly visible beneath his wet shirt. He threw it over his head and away, somewhere in the bathroom, lost to the heat between them, and his pants quickly followed, hitting the bathroom floor with a splash.

Ellie didn’t have a chance to appreciate the body laid bare in front of her before careful hands turned her, nudging her forward and down, hard line of his cock sliding against the back of her thighs, her ass, an grind that made her core twitch again. She balanced her hands on the edge of the tub as he lined up behind her; even though she was ready, the noise that escaped her mouth shocked her, low and needy and downright pornographic, a guttural groan as he filled her in one smooth stroke.

“Oooh….I like that noise.” Colt’s whisper was low in her ear.

“Then…._oh_….then you should keep it up.”

He pivoted his hips again and Ellie had to place her palms against the wall, pushing back as he filled her again and again, each thrust deeper than the last. She curled her fingers, nails scraping against the tiles, and bit her lip, trying to stop the curses from pouring out of her mouth.

It was useless, however, when his hand snaked around to find her clit again, moving in time with his thrusts as she keened. “Holy shit.”

“I love it when you swear.” He was basically holding her up, strong arms keeping her from sliding forward on the slick tub beneath them.

“Colt...”

“I love it even more when you say my name.”

His next stoke was dead on its target, sending flares of pleasure up her spine and making her legs shake. “Fuck, Colt!”

His arms tightened around her waist as he continued hitting the same spot, moving his thumb and his cock in a steady tempo that had her biting her lip. She would have covered her mouth, desperate to keep the noises and curses quiet, desperate for no one else to hear and interrupt, but she couldn’t move her hands from the wall. She was balanced between the tile and his body, barely standing on legs that shivered and shook with every precise thrust.

She could taste blood, the teeth in her lip cutting through the surface, but that wasn’t even enough to keep her quiet. Instead, the words and noises fell out, echoing on the shower walls. “Fuck, Colt, fuck, please please _please_.” She was so close. “I need- I need-”

She was almost dizzy, world spinning with the heat and the movement and his movements, drawing pleasure from her, higher and higher.

“Oh my God.” Her voice was a wheeze. “I’m so close, please...”

“You don’t need to beg.” His reply was huffed through gritted teeth as his fingers increased their speed, circling her clit, driving any sanity from her body.

“Oh my God, Colt!” It was a shout, too loud, but she was beyond caring as she came again. She could feel the tension in her muscles snapping, shaking as they let go, her cunt tightening around Colt so she could feel every single movement of his cock inside her.

“Ellie, you feel so good when you come around me.” His thrusts were unsteady behind her. “Ellie, Ellie, _baby_.” He pushed inside her one last time, hard, hands pulling her hips flush against his as he twitched inside her, following her over the edge.

She couldn’t move, was frozen, hands still pushing against the wall, Colt draped over her back.

“Holy shit.” He stepped back, separating their bodies and carefully helping Ellie stand. “Holy shit.”

She was about to reply when she could just hear footsteps over the water falling from above.

“Why is the bathroom door open? Ellie?”

Colt jumped in front of her, shielding her body from view. It was almost sweet, protective, or it would have been if she weren’t certain that the move was less about preserving her modesty and more about making sure Logan never saw the parts of her body that Colt covetously claimed as his own.

“Shhh...” She put a finger to her lips, peering around. Logan hadn’t seen them yet but it was close. She could just make out his head peeking trough the door.

“Whose clothes are these? Wait....”

She had to throw her hand in front of Colt’s mouth to stop the laugh.

Logan continued, “Seriously guys? In my bathroom?”

"Oh my God, do you think you own the fucking place too?" Colt’s yell could definitely be heard through Ellie’s fingers. She winced.

Logan groaned. “Can you just...oh my God. I’m leaving, I’m leaving.” His footsteps edged away from the door. “Can we all be decent in 15 minutes?”

She smirked at Colt, waiting for Logan to leave before speaking again. “I don’t think you can be decent in 15. I don’t think you’re ever decent.”

“Not with you.”

She reached out a hand to feel the water, flashing her most devious look.. “Hmmm....still warm.”

“It’s be a shame to waste it.” He slotted his hips against hers and she could feel his cock starting to stiffen again.

She bit her lip. “I mean, we have 15 minutes to finish washing this grease off.”

“I think I’m gonna need longer than that to get clean.” 

“Then maybe we should get started.” She groaned as his hips moved in a slow circle against hers, a familiar heat starting anew. 

He leaned closer, lips sliding up her jaw, and she could just make out the heated whisper, hissed through the teeth affixed to her earlobe. "Make. Me."


	3. Chapter 3

“How do you get such amazing hair?” Ellie was supposed to be helping with an engine on a fancy convertible, old money owners dropping it off and expecting a quick turnaround. While she was leaning over the open hood, she was doing anything but helping. “_Seriously_.” She reached over to run her fingers through the strands. They reflected the sunlight streaming through the shop, shiny and vibrant, every strand perfectly placed.

Logan flushed, crimson spreading across his nose. “It’s not that amazing.”

“Oh. It is.” She couldn’t stop touching it, running her hands through silken tendrils, letting them fall through her fingers like water, always landing perfectly in place.

“I use nice shampoo, I guess?” He shrugged. “I have a set routine I follow and I stick to it.”

“_Really_…” Her hand stilled against his scalp. “A routine?”

“Do you want me to teach you?”

“I would rather die.” Colt’s indignant scoff was clear from inside the car.

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Colt.”

“No, seriously.” He slammed the car door closed. “I would rather lie down under the bay door and wait for the sweet release of death as someone drives in for service and unknowingly put me out of my misery.”

She waited until he stormed off to turn back to Logan. “Ok. For real. What’s your secret?”

“You really want to know?” He leaned forward conspiratorially and she nodded eagerly. “Ok. Let’s go.”

15 minutes later, Ellie’s hand was cramping as she scrawled furiously at the desk. “Wait, you co-wash every fourth day and then have another shampoo-conditioner combination you use in between?”

“Uh huh.” Logan perched on the top of the desk to look over her notebook. “It really locks in the moisture and gives it that effortless shine.”

“And when does the hair oil come in?”

“That’s after the mousse but make sure you get the right kind of your hair type.”

She rubbed her temple, nodding frantically. Yes, this seemed like a lot of work, but hair that amazing was worth it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Ren's soulmate idea: You know the soulmate AU where you have your soulmate’s first words that they are going to speak to you tattooed on you your whole life and you have to find that person? lol imagine MC growing up with “Looks like you’re in the wrong place, sweetheart.” tattooed on her arm haha

Ellie thought that soulmate tattoos were utter nonsense.

The romantic part of her, hidden deep away beneath her studies and her future, dreamed of someone saying those words to her, those eight words, those nine syllables. As long as she could remember, she had been curious. When would she hear them? Who would they be? And where was she, that she was so notably, obviously out of place?

But the _words_. They did not give off the best first impression. Riya thought they were rude and it sounded like someone was being flip with her; as her best friend, she was disappointed, convinced that Ellie’s soulmate should never be rude or rough. They gossiped about someone endlessly kind and patient and gentle. The words suggested otherwise.

Her father was also cautious, warning her of boys whose smart mouths belied dark intentions. Ellie had zero experience with boys but knew that her dad would have been wary regardless of who her soulmate was, even with the sweetest of first words.

Her mother was the only one who had faith, who encouraged her to trust in the fates and keep an open mind. Her mom thought it sounded like she would finally have someone to care of her, to watch out for her when she was lost. After her mother died, she took special.comfort in it, tracing the flowing script on her forearm with careful fingers, patiently waiting and wondering if her mother was right.

But when the night finally came, when she finally heard those words, a mocking jeer across an asphalt lot when she was painfully out of her element, then Ellie knew the truth.

This was not the romance of her secret dreams. At all.

For all her mom’s hopes, it turned out that this soulmate stuff was all just nonsense. Because there was no way in hell this boy was hers.

~~~~~

“So where’s your tattoo?” Ellie watched Colt as he drove to her driver’s test. While she appreciated the ride, she still knew there had to be a mistake. This couldn’t be the person tied to her for life. Maybe the fates thought they belonged together, but her future would not see them as a couple, she would guarantee it. 

He barely glanced over, long fingers drumming a steady beat on the steering wheel. “Right on my ass.” He shrugged.

“Oh my God, that’s awful! That is like one place I wouldn’t want it and…” She trailed off as she caught sight of his smirk. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

He shrugged again as he weaved through the LA traffic.

“That’s not exactly the nicest way to interact with your soulmate.”

He stared her down. “I never said you were my-”

“I saw how you looked at me. ‘Who wants to know’ is inked on you somewhere.”

“I don’t know what mine says.” The smirk was back. “It’s on my ass. Can’t see it.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I bother with you.” For not the first time, she wished that Logan was more of a jerk, that it was him who said those words to her.

“Because you believe in that soulmate nonsense?”

She crossed her arms and slunk down into the seat, gazing at the scenery passing by. “Maybe I wanted to…”

~~~~~

Ellie gasped for air, still clutching Colt’s hand as she shook the Pacific off her face. It was exhilarating, their weightless plunge and the sudden splash, and she couldn’t stop the laughter. “I can’t believe we did that!”

“I didn’t know you had it in you.”

She flushed underneath his assessing gaze. “So where’s your tattoo?” She had watched Colt strip through lowered lashes, for research purposes only. She solely wanted to see where her words were inked on his skin. The broad shoulders and defined muscles were a pleasant surprise but she still couldn’t see the words, even when he was clad in just his boxers.

He pulled her closer, their fingers still twined. “I told you, it’s on my-”

“You liar.” She watched the salt water trailing down his face and swallowed as a droplet slid right over his plush lips.

“You just want me to show you.”

His gaze was intense, a heated smolder that made the ocean water feel cold, as if nothing could compare with the fire in his eyes. She felt herself being drawn closer. “You wish.”

He had just managed to whisper ‘maybe,’ the ghost of two syllables against her skin, and then his lips were on hers, hungry and demanding. She couldn’t stop the moan as he pulled her closer, bodies intertwining as the water lapped at their skin.

And even though they had already jumped off the cliff, Ellie felt like she was still falling.

~~~~~

“That’s where your tattoo is?!?” Ellie managed to eke out before the giggled forced their way through her throat. “There?” She traced the words surrounding his hip bone, a careful, delicate script that was at odds with the corded muscles that surrounded it.

Colt’s head dropped against the pillow. “Weren’t you in the middle of something?”

“But….” She tried to breathe, but the laughter made it hard. “It’s so pretty!”

“That’s it.” He narrowed his eyes and reached down to pulled her to his chest. “I can’t have my soulmate laughing at me while I’m naked.” With that, he rolled them both so he was on top of her, caging her in against the bed.

The laughter died in her throat as every inch of her burned, every single place their skin met setting off sparks in her spine. She bit her lips and smirked as Colt’s eyes were drawn to the move of her mouth. “What are you going to do about it?”

“This.” Callused fingers traced the tattoo on her arm as he moved down her body, lips following the trail of heat his fingers left. And when he reached his destination, she gave a silent thank you for tattoos and soulmates.

And then she wasn’t silent anymore.

~~~~~

Ellie dropped her bag on the floor of the library with a sigh. She had one more test to take until she could finally fly back to LA but she needed to cram. At least her favorite desk was available, hidden in the corner where no one could see her but she had a clear view of the front desk, able to watch her classmates milling in and out.

She could tell who the soulmates were, wandering in holding hands, hearts in their eyes and love written in ink. It made her chest ache. She hadn’t spoken to Colt in months. He was in hiding and she was here and everything hurt. Careful fingers traced the black lines on her arm; the motion was less comforting than normal.

She had just finished highlighting her notes when movement at the door caught her eye. Right in the main foyer, there was a very familiar leather jacket, worn by a very familiar figure, with a very familiar tattoo hidden underneath layers of clothes.

She gasped and was off her feet before she could think, staring at his back. She was afraid to blink, terrified that he would vanish, just disappear into thin air as if this were a dream. 

When she was a few feet behind him, she couldn’t stop the words from coming out of her mouth. “Looks like you’re in the wrong place, sweetheart.”

He turned, mouth dropping open at the sight of her before he recovered. “Who wants to know?” 

She beamed and ran into his arms. As their lips met, she thought that maybe she actually believed in this soulmate nonsense after all.


	5. Grey Sweatpants Season

“Oh my god, Riya, stop! It's not a thing." Ellie hissed out the words as she edged through the shop, infinitely grateful that no one was there. 

“Oh, it is because let me tell you, when Darius wears them, I-”

"Stop! I don’t want to hear anything about you and Darius and- urgh.” Someone was making noise in the break room. It was late, almost midnight, but apparently car thieves operated on a different schedule than everyone else. “I’m here, I gotta go."

She followed the sound and stopped dead in her tracks, momentum almost making her fall off her feet.

"What's wrong with you?" Colt shot her a look, standing next to the fridge, hand clasped around a bottle of water and wearing an outfit that she had never, ever seen before.

Her mouth dropped open and words just wouldn't come.

"Ellie?" He raised his eyebrows at her, waiting.

She still couldn’t speak, throat catching around nothing as she gaped at him.

He took two steps forward, long strides making the sweatpants curve around him in a way that had to be indecent and should be outlawed. Hell, she knew that most of the things he did _were _outlawed but she didn’t think his attire should be added to the list.

He was still staring at her.

“I’m-” She coughed. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

Crap. Riya was right. It _was _a thing.

~~~~~ 

It went on for weeks. They must have been new. Colt had taken to wearing them to bed, when slumming around the garage, and one memorable occasion when they walked to Kelso’s, every step showcasing the obscene fit.

They were driving Ellie out of her mind.

Everyone knew that she was attracted to him, they had been together for months for chrissake, but she could not stop thinking about them. They were soft to the touch, fabric cloud-soft and delicate, but the cut? And the way they showcased every single part of his anatomy?

_Jesus_.

They had just come back from a night out, Colt joining her for an evening out with her high school friends, when he winked at her. “I’m tired. I think I’ll just change into my _grey sweatpants_ now.”

Her heart stopped. “You knew?!?" She could feel her cheeks pinking.

“Riya told me tonight." He smirked. "I mean, you weren't able to look me in the eye for weeks. I had no idea what was going on.”

She covered her face and rubbed her eyes before facing him again. “Listen, I never would have noticed if she hadn’t gone off about grey sweatpants season.”

“I don’t mind you checking out my-”

“Shut up!” 

He deftly caught the pillow she threw at him. “I don’t mind you having dirty thoughts about me. You know I have enough about you.”

“I don’t wear anything so...” Hands flailing, she tried to think of the right word. “Indecent.”

“Grey sweatpants? Indecent? Really?”

“Really.”

“You have tons of sexy clothes, Ellie.”

She wracked her brain, coming up short. “Like what?”

“I mean, I don’t have a _favorite _thing that you wear.”

“You don't?” .

“I like you in anything. Everything.” He stepped closer, sly smile spreading across his lips as he linked a finger through her belt loop, pulling her closer.

“Cop out.”

“Fine.” He traced a finger up her spine. "You.know what I like you in best?

"What?"

"Nothing."

And Ellie made him prove it when she wore his favorite outfit for the rest of the night.


	6. Chapter 6

She hoards every single compliment, every single reassurance, every single word he gave stored in a secret, hidden place in her brain. She pulls them out when she is alone, turning the syllables over on her tongue, trying to match the tone and cadence as if perfect diction will return their original speaker to her. 

They sound dull in her mouth.

Yet she speaks them all anyway.

The “you’re so fucking sexy,” muttered through blindingly perfect teeth clenched in the skin of her inner thigh while hiding away from the world as if it couldn’t touch them so long as they never left this darkened room.

The “that was damn smart” breathed under twinkling eyes and expressive brows while she was in the driver’s seat of a car that carried her miles away from where her heart still remained.

The “I’m not going anywhere” promised after she fell apart, when her body was still in pieces, all scattered into unimaginable pleasure during a night when she thought she had the world in front of her, everything narrowing to a hotel bed and a golden child and the thrill of young love.

She remembers them all, words more precious than her bracelet, more precious than any gem, than any possession, and they tide her over during the lonely nights when she looks up at the stars and longs for home.


	7. Know Your Strengths

Despite what Ellie constantly claimed, Colt Kaneko was no narcissist. He wasn't full of himself. He just knew exactly what his strengths were and, if he could manipulate a situation so that it played to those, well, he would be a fucking idiot not to.**  
**

And Colt was no idiot.

He knew how to play to his strengths.

Like when he planned jobs. He knew that other crews had more muscle and more firepower, but they didn't have his brain, so he orchestrated steals where the crew could move fast and move first, designing the chess board in a way that his pieces would win the day.

Like when he raced. He knew that cars had an advantage on turns, able to corner far faster than he ever could. So he played smart, ceding the curves but gunning it on the straightaway where the acceleration of his bike could leave the four wheelers in the dust.

And like now.

"Colt, I have to study…" Ellie halfheartedly batted his hands away from her shoulders and he smirked, applying a bit more pressure as her voice cut off into a deep moan.

"I know. I know you're stressed. I'm just trying to...help you out." His hands moved in strong circles, down her tense muscles, stopping to knead at a knot that had taken root below her shoulder blade.

"Cooolt…."

He smirked to himself as he watched her head loll to the side, giving him more access and tacitly encouraging his ministrations. Hell, he needed no additional encouragement; the thought of his hands on her, hopefully with less fabric separating her skin from his fingertips, _fuck_, that was encouragement enough.

"I need to study." Her voice was low, breathy, and he could hear her wavering as his hands traveled lower, tracing the muscles of her sides, glancing over the line of her spine. When he reached her lower back, the moan that fell from her lips was music to his ears; it spoke of surrender and desire, sensual and wanton, and Colt knew he had her.

He ducked his head to kiss her neck, lips sliding up the soft skin to speak low in her ear. "Imagine how much better this would be without the shirt. On my bed. You'd study better if you were more relaxed."

She spin in her seat so she could shoot him a challenging glare. "You think I don't know what you're doing?"

"What am I doing?"

"Trying to distract me from studying so you can have your way with me!" The smile spreading across her face was sly, teasing, and he quirked an eyebrow.

"I'm just worried about your academic performance. I can't have my girl failing out because she's too stressed."

She stood suddenly, eyes dark as she purred, "Well then, this better be the best stress relief of my life."

His eyes widened as she whipped her shirt over her head to drop it on the floor, yet another piece of clothing likely lost to some dark corner of the room. He couldn't pull his eyes away as she sauntered over to his bed, shooting him a sultry smirk before stretching her back, fluid and catlike, and easing down onto his sheets.

"You should take your bra off, too."

"Next, you're gonna ask me to take my pants off," she huffed.

"Ha." He took his time walking to the bed so he could straddle her thighs, leaning over to trail teasing kisses up her back. "When I'm done with you, you're gonna be begging me to pull them off you."

She sighed, sagging into the mattress as his hands found her back again and he got to work. He knew exactly where he should touch, which spots on her body would tease out the most delicious whimpers and moans.

He knew how to play to his strengths.

And Ellie Wheeler, shirtless and underneath him? Hell, Colt knew his weaknesses too. And if he was gonna be weak for this girl, he was gonna make damn sure she never left his bed unsatisfied.


	8. Thankful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie tries to get Colt to partake in a family Thanksgiving tradition.

_5 days to go…_

Ellie took a deep breath and twined her fingers together. “Ok, listen. If you’re coming to Thanksgiving at my dad’s, there’s something you need to know.”

“Oh Lord, what now?” Colt looked up, wary, eyes boring into hers.

She rolled her eyes. “Every year, everyone, we just…go around the table and say what we’re thankful for.”

“Umm….”

“It’s tradition! We…we did it before my mom died and…”

“Ok. Whatever.” He shrugged, turning back to the tv.

She sank onto the couch next to him. “So….”

“So?”

“You’re gonna need to say something you’re thankful for.”

He rolled his eyes. “Ellie….”

“Please.” She reached over to squeeze his hand in hers. “It’s just….we always do it and…”

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine.”

“Really?”

“If it’s so important to you, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She waited but he didn’t elaborate. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“What are you gonna say you’re thankful for?”

He caught her eye. “I’m thankful he hasn’t arrested me.” With that, he promptly turned back to the tv.

“Colt!!!”

~~~~~

_4 days to go…._

“Did you come up with anything?”

Colt glanced at her and murmured something back, unintelligible around the chicken finger in his mouth.

She huffed. “What was that?”

“I asked what you were talking about.“

“The Thanksgiving tradition…” she trailed off. “Remember? We talked?”

“Oh, yeah.”

She frowned. “Do you remember?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” 

She looked at him closely. “You didn’t remember.”

“I did!”

“Then what are you thankful for?”

“Uhh….I’m thankful for…” His eyes darted around before he smiled, grabbing another chicken finger. “Kelso’s. I’m thankful for Kelso’s chicken fingers and fries.”

She groaned as he took a triumphant bite. _This was hopeless._

~~~~~

_3 days to go…._

Ellie looked around the empty shop, confused, before heading up to their loft. “There you are!”

“Hey. How was work?” Colt was hunched over his desk, eyes fixed on something she couldn’t see.

“Good. I’m grateful I have the rest of the week off…”

He didn’t bite, just nodding and turning around.

She sighed and walked closer, dropping her hands on his shoulders. “Come on, Colt.”

“What?”

“What are you grateful for?”

“Ellie…You’re being ridiculous.”

“Colt…” she dropped her voice, warning clear in her tone.

He spun in his chair, devious smile spreading over his face as his palm made his way up her thigh, sliding between fabric and skin, line of heat making her shudder. “I’m thankful for that dress.”

“Not appropriate for Thanksgiving!” She stepped back with a gasp.

He shrugged. “But true.”

~~~~~

_2 days to go…_

“Hey.”

Colt sat up suddenly, clipping his head on the bumper of the car he was working on. “Owww….”

“Sorry.” She rubbed gentle fingers over the spot. “I just wanted to see if you were ready for Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah?” His eyebrows furrowed. “We have the pie. And the special cider you like? What else…?”

She bit her lip. “Do you know what you’re gonna say?”

“Huh?”

“What you’re thankful for?”

His shoulders dropped. “I don’t know, Ellie, come on. Can you give me a break?”

“Colt?!? Please? This is impor-”

“I don’t know, ok!?! I don’t know! I’m thankful for motorcycles?” 

She sighed, eyes falling to the ground.

“Come on, El. What do you want from me?”

“I want you to take this seriously!” She stomped her foot on the ground

“Whatever. I’ll come up with something.” He stood, shooting her a blazing glare before storming up the stairs.

Ellie sighed and rubbed her temples. _This was gonna be awful._

~~~~~

_1 day to go…._

She slid between the covers and fluffed her pillow, anxious fingers twining in cool cotton. She was still worried about Thanksgiving, still worried about the relationship between her dad and her boyfriend, and exceedingly worried that Colt wasn’t taking their tradition seriously. 

“Hey, Colt?”

“Yeah?” His voice was hoarse; she had caught him just before he fell asleep.

“Did you think of something?”

“Huh?”

“Something to say that you’re grateful for tomorrow?”

He rolled over, blinking back drowsiness from his eyes, lips curving into a smirk. She wasn’t expecting it when his hand found her waist, sliding up her curves, fingers dragging heat across sensitive skin. “I’m so grateful Toby went to visit his cousins.” She shivered as the pads of his fingers made their way higher.

“But, Colt…”

He ducked his head so his lips could follow the path of sparks his fingers left in their wake. “Yeah?”

“You…” she trailed off into a moan as his tongue found a sensitive spot. And as he continued, tongue and fingers teasing lower and lower until she couldn’t remember the thread of the conversation, she also became passionately and loudly appreciative of the fact that the shop was empty.

Later, when she was curled up against his side and sweet exhaustion was clouding her mind, she had a new list running in her head of things to be grateful for. This list? She could never tell another soul. But right before sleep claimed her, she frowned. She realized she was no closer to getting Colt to come up with something to be grateful for tomorrow. _Crap_.

~~~~~

_0 days to go…._

“Well, I’m grateful for a good year at the precinct and that Ellie moved back after graduation.”

Ellie took a deep breath, moving the mashed potatoes around on her plate. “I’m thankful that we are all here together, safe and sound.” She bit her lip and glanced over. “Colt?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you thankful for?”

“Ellie.”

She couldn’t stifle the groan. “I told you to think of something,” she hissed.

“I did. I’m thankful for you. Not just today. Everyday I’m thankful for you,” he responded, voice earnest, almost shy, before turning to her dad with a sneer. “And that you haven’t arrested me." 

Her dad’s eyes were hard, in full detective mode. "Yet.”

“Better luck next year.”

She couldn’t bring herself to care about the perpetual bickering between them. The smile on her face was too wide for words to even form, stretching across her face until her cheeks ached. She felt tears pool in her eyes as her fingers found his under the table, squeezing as hard as she could.

On this day to give thanks, she knew how much she truly had to be thankful for.


	9. Chapter 9

_Urgh_. “Hi, Colt.” She had been expecting the phone call but, at this very moment, she was stumbling to the campus center on a desperate hunt for caffeine and every second delay was challenging her already thin patience.

“You sound like shit.”

She groaned. “Oh, I’m sorry. Being up until 4am finishing a research paper takes its toll.”

“Did you sleep?”

“Yeah, for like three hours,” she huffed, rolling her eyes.

Even when he was at his most caring, he was still prickly as hell. When she called him a week ago, crying and sleep-deprived over a calculus final where hours holed up in the library made proofs swim in obscure patterns beneath her eyelids, he had called her a nerd, reminded her that higher level math was not required for a life of crime, and stayed on the phone with her for over an hour until she slipped into an uneasy sleep. When she called him three days ago, frantic over a C on a pop quiz, he had pulled over on the side of the road, motorcycle engine rumbling over the phone line, to talk her down and make her realize that one bad grade (”_but a passing grade, Ellie, Christ!”_) would not make or break her (though his exasperated “_D is for diploma and this isn’t even a D! It’s a C! C for....congratulations?” _did not help). And when she called him yesterday, forlorn over unedited pages and missing citations of an English essay, he had teased and goaded and told her increasingly bizarre stories about Toby’s antics until she was giggling, nestled under cotton sheets and piles of blankets until 1am, when she finally felt ready to attack her assignment.

“Well, you look like you just woke up.”

“That’s because I did!” Her shoulders fell. “I did just wake up and I need coffee and...” She trailed off, pulling the phone away from her ear to look at the screen. _Huh? _They weren’t video chatting. “How did you know...?”

A chuckle behind her made her spin on the path and her mouth dropped open at the figure behind her, smirk spreading across his lips, paper cup in his hand.

“Oh. My...” She didn’t finish the thought before she started sprinting, exhaustion forgotten as she leapt into his arms.

“Look out for your coffee!” Colt flicked his arm, shaking off the liquid from his jacket. “Christ!”

“What are you doing here?”

“I can’t have my girl failing out because she’s stressed over stupid classes.”

She blinked up at him, so taken aback that his words just weren’t computing. “So you drove all the way out here to bring me coffee?”

“I drove all the way out here so I could steal your professors’ cars as revenge.” He winked and handed her the cup. “The coffee’s a bonus.”

She stood on her toes, tilting her head so their faces could meet head on, so close she could see her reflection in his dark eyes. “I don’t know if I want you becoming an interstate felon for me.” She moved closer to taste the smile gracing his lips, a long-awaited reacquaintance to the way he kissed her until she was breathless, almost lightheaded, butterflies in her stomach spreading to her limbs as she pulled back.

She couldn’t stop the dopey grin from spreading across her face as she turned to guide him back to her dorm. Three steps in, she froze, grimacing. “I’m not going to get any studying with you here, am I?”

“No.” He wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer. “But you will be less stressed.”

As far as Ellie was concerned, it was enough.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Logan drabble (who am I?)

She hates the cold.

It comes swiftly on the East Coast, roaring in from the west with stunning ferocity, dumping feet of snow over the campus, covering walkways and paths in a winter wonderland that soon turns into grey slush, turning the dorm entryway into a slippery mess and the route to class into a hazardous slop. She edges through, carefully plotting her footsteps, clutching her books to her chest as if they can protect her from the piercing chill and bitter wind. 

She misses the sun, the beach, but she ignores the pang in her heart.

Jason told her she would come crawling back to LA at the first hint of snow. She remembers the comment, spoken before she knew what he was, and seethes, slamming her foot into a frozen puddle. Her sneaker breaks through the surface, falling into the freezing water before striking pavement. She can feel the cold oozing into her shoe, soaking her sock, and her toes are numb by the end of the day.

But she ignores it.

Because Lanston won’t be one more thing he takes from her.

~~~~~

She doesn’t party.

When her classmates are busy making mistakes and crashing hard and losing the last shards of their childhood innocence, she knows she has none to take.

Jason tried. He tried to break her. He tried to ruin her friends, threaten her father, murder her, and, above all, he tried to ruin her faith in others.

But he failed. And when she is alone and lonely, she thinks of faith and love and forgiveness. She thinks of a boy with a heart of gold, who broke and mended her heart, who would sacrifice himself for her. She thinks of lying in a hotel room, picking up strands of his hair so she could watch them fall to the pillow, a halo around a smile that could bring her to her knees.

And even though they were two kids who only wanted to devour all the room service they could, they were already hardened and scarred, battle-weary but strong.

He couldn’t take her innocence. She gave it willingly, to a family of thieves and the rush of the road and the hands of a boy with no last name who treated her proclamations of love as if they were from the lips of an angel.

Because her innocence won’t be one more thing he takes from her.

~~~~~

She remembers everything.

She is walking home, alone, late from class. The campus is empty; her only company is the sound of her footsteps echoing on the cobblestones. The ferocity of winter has faded and, though there is a chill in the air, the scent of azaleas in bloom signal a softening into spring.

She is looking up at the stars, wondering if she can will the constellations to form a face, when she sees it. A gasp falls from her lips as she tracks its movement across the sky, watching the rock in space burn up in the atmosphere. After it fades into the west, she watches still, waiting to see if another will appear. After fifteen minutes of quiet, she starts walking again, buoyed by the memory of a boy with a car.

Jason tried to replace these memories with something vile, blood and tears and fire warring in her mind. But she focuses on the better, the touch of a boy who showed her the world, the kiss of a boy who loved her.

Because her memories won’t be one more thing he takes from her.

~~~~~

She drives.

She leaves early but is still exhausted when she gets there. The southern route took longer, hours of driving leaving ample time for thought. She makes it just as the sun is dipping below the horizon.

This is the part where her plan gets hazy, where she needs to rely on a bit of luck. But she knows him, just like he knows her, and she can only trust that it will be enough.

Jason tried to steal him from her. He tried to separate her from all the people she cares for most in the world, a diabolical scheme to leave her alone and wanting. She had worried he succeeded.

But as she finds the sideshow, fighting her way through the crowds sandwiched into a small East Detroit lot, she has to blink back tears as she spots a yellow Devore GT. The tears fall anyways when she sees a familiar halo of hair, hears the questioning ‘troublemaker’ fall from his lips.

Because he won’t be one more thing he takes from her.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off choicesarehard's response to an ask on what charm would each RoD LI give MC

She cannot believe she is here, standing in these neon lights as perky cheerleader types file around her. This is the kind of place that Mona would generally avoid like the plague, soft colors and cheerful sales clerks committing assault on her sanity.

But, something about the silver on display drew her in. She didn’t plan on stopping here, more interested in stretching her legs and enjoying her newfound ability to run free, but the gleam of glass from the shining cases made her pause. Then, when she wandered in and saw the display, she knew she had to get one. Ellie had been on her mind every day, through roll call and yard time, and now that Mona had finally traded her orange jumpsuit for street clothes, it seemed appropriate that her newly freed feet guide her here.

The girl behind the counter looked suspicious, rightfully so, but Mona didn’t care, barely sparing a glance before she meandered down the cases, index finger trailing along the glass top while studying the options.

Everything screams Ellie, the charms intricate and beautiful. Nothing screams Mona, none of the options tinged with hard edges and regret. The tiny handcuffs might have worked, once upon a time, but, after months in a jail cell, she can’t help but feel bitter over any type of shackles. She likes the dice, hidden away on the second shelf but, with hours to kill and no one to report to, she swings around the shop for one last glance.

She is almost to the register again when she sees it and the sight makes her stomach leap into her throat. It gleams like a beacon under a spotlight, two charms in one, a thick heart that would normally garner a scoff if not for the tiny key attached. The key speaks of hope, of belonging, of freedom; with the heavy band around her ankle and scar tissue lining her stomach, Mona feels a deep desire for it all. And who unlocks her heart if not with the girl she would give everything to and give up everything for?

Mona leaves the store with a tiny blue bag and a lightness in her step. Due to the ridiculous rules of parole, she will need to mail it to Langston but, when she pictures that college girl with the key to her heart on her wrist? The smile that spreads across her lips is unusual, foreign, but she can’t pull the glee from her face. After everything they’ve been through, Ellie wearing a piece of Mona on her wrist makes it all worth it.

~~~~~~

“Hmm…do you have one that says ‘you’re making a giant mistake by going to college’?”

“Uhh….” The clerk is gaping at him, but Colt doesn’t care; he has already moved down the case to take in the rows of charms locked away. The math comes quick; if a charm is $50 and there are 30 in a box, six boxes per shelf, three shelves per case, and seven cases in this goddamn store, then he’s looking at over $180K in merchandise in this one store. _Damn_. Not for the first time, he wonders if he’s in the wrong business.

He blinks at the rows of jewelry, remembering the way the silver bracelet hung from her dainty wrist, clanking every time she turned the steering wheel and jangling every time her palm fit perfectly in his, and wonders what addition would be perfect. The open book charm makes him smirk, perfect for a giant nerd. The crown makes him pause, perfect for the queen who will rule LA alongside him one day.

The compass makes his heart stop. He taps on the case, eyes trained on his prize. “That one.”

The clerk, still incredulous, makes her way over to turn the lock and slide the tiny piece over. He thinks of her voice in his head as he turns it over; even though it’s too dangerous to call, he can still hear her echoing in his head, invaluable feedback on his every plan and every move. She still guides him to this day, and a compass on her wrist is the perfect complement to how, even across the country, she remains his North Star.

“I’ll take it.”

The clerk nods, dutifully ringing in his purchase. “Do you need a box?”

“No.” Colt smiles, Ellie’s voice in his head once more, compass guiding him east. “I’m gonna bring it to her myself.”

~~~~~

The charm is tiny in his palm and he squeezes it, opening his hand to see the indent of a heart left on his skin. It’s a delicate shape, rounded curve catching the light, and he knows it would look great dangling from her wrist, but something makes Logan pause. It doesn’t feel _perfect_.

He looks up at the clerk, standing in front of him and fidgeting with a ring of keys. “Which one would you want?”

“What.”

“If someone special were gonna get something for you, what you you want?”

The girl behind the counter squints at him, studying for so long that Logan shifts from side to side under her assessing gaze; finally, she breaks into a smile. “Usually, I would say she wants two to get you to buy more. But…” She quirks her head, and he tries to pull out his most dashing smile. “But I can tell this is important to you.”

“You have no idea.”

“Ok.” She glances at his hand, still clutching the heart. “I like that one. It’s nice, cute…but a little impersonal.”

“What do you mean?”

“I like it when the charm says something about me, about the relationship. Whatever it is. The heart is nice, but it doesn’t seem that meaningful. Don’t you think?”

He nods slowly as her words sink in, eyes scanning the case again. She’s right, the heart is something that anyone could give, but he doesn’t know how to put everything he feels for Ellie in a tiny silver charm. Right when he is about to give up, he sees it. “Can I look at that one right there?”

As soon as his fingertips meet silver, it feels right. He taps the point of the star, rubbing his hand over the tail, and thinks back to the last time he saw her. A shooting star is bright but ephemeral, a once-in-a-lifetime sight that burns up before it hits the ground. It’s _perfect_.

“Can I get it gift wrapped?”


	12. Chapter 12

Ellie Wheeler had always loved languages. 

She excelled in every subject but her passion, her expertise, was foreign languages. She was fluent in four, passable in an additional three, and had dreams of studying more, her innate drive calling her to learn and practice and perfect until she could form exacting sounds and syllables that betrayed her linguistic command. Her fondest memories of school included hours of instruction, mouth moving just so to give voice to the perfect pronunciation. The Rs in Spanish, dragging her tongue on the tip of her mouth, the perfect speed to slur por favor or amor to comprehending ears. The severe consonants of Mandarin, pushing air against her teeth to produce the harsh clipped sounds of speech. The rolling vowels of Arabic, lips pursing and opening, gliding around the ahh’s that slid out from the base of her throat.

.

Her teachers would faint to see how she used those lessons now, how her tongue enabled a conversation that predated speech, that existed when any exchange of information between two people occurred outside of audible wavelengths, ignorant of decibels and tonality. Instead, she spoke through the realm of the physical, mouths and bodies joined in a music and a beat that lived on at a cellular level.

And the communication in return? His thighs trembling underneath her. His hands sliding down her face to graze her jaw, her cheeks, before burying themselves in her hair. The whine as he slid inside her, desperate pitch ignored in all the languages she ever learned but vocabulary she knew innately. The movement of his lips against her skin, unspoken words breathed into her hair, her breast, her clit, nonsense syllables that barely made a sound but sang regardless.

Forget Spanish, Mandarin, Arabic, all of her extensive foreign language instruction. 

She knew this language better than any of them.


	13. Chapter 13

Ellie couldn’t catch her breath, chest heaving as she stared at the figure crouched between her legs, licking her wetness from his lips.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you taste amazing.”

“I don’t think…” Her voice caught, a dry sound over chapped.lips. “I don’t think that’s a thing.”

“Fuck yeah it is.”

“What do I taste like?”

Colt sat back on his heels, hooded eyes blazing a heated path over her skin. “Salt.” His tongue teased his lower lip. “Salt, like after we dive off the cliff.”

“Really.”

“Uh huh.” He licked his lips again, experimentally, as if trying to catalogue the flavor. “Like when I kiss the ocean off of you. And a little tangy. Like…like…” He floundered.

“Like bad?”

“No!” He looked offended. “Kinda like the first bite of licorice. And a little sweet. Like when you put fruit in your water. But…”

“But?”

He bit his lower lip, pondering. “It’s more than that.” Careful fingers trailed up her inner thigh and she couldn’t stop the shiver. “It tastes like…like you’re happy and it was me who did it, me who could make you feel that way.”

“It always comes back to your ego, doesn’t it?” she teased.

He rolled his eyes, and the fingers traced higher. “I’m telling you, it’s more than that. It’s like….it’s like I was able to make you happy, like really please you…” The softness in his eyes made her realize that maybe he was referring to something more than how his tongue slid through her folds as he continued, “It tastes like a present you give to me, only me, because I’m the one you chose, I’m the one you came back for.”

The always was caught in her throat as she studied him, his hand curving around her hip bone; even though she just came, she could feel a familiar heat starting to build in her center.

“It’s like I’m the one who’s able to satisfy you,” he smirked, “and I’m never gonna fucking stop doing it.”

She pushed herself up to grab at his neck, fingernails catching on overheated skin to drag him forward, desperately, and taste her satisfaction on his lips.

“Colt?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, low and warm, promise and vow, all sealed into the seam of her lips to settle as vibrations heavy against her tongue.

“Satisfy me again.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday Mar!

“Hey! That tickles!”

A mild grumble is the only reply and Ellie props herself up on her elbows, craning her neck over her bulging stomach to catch his eye.

"What was that?"

"I'm just conferring with my daughter, here."

"Well, I can't hear anything you're saying."

"I know." Logan grins impishly, dropping a kiss below her belly button. His voice drops to a stage whisper. "That's ‘cuz we're planning a coup."

"Really."

"The first thing she wants to do once she breaks out is to go with her daddy to get chocolate milkshakes."

Ellie starts giggling; the more she tries to stifle it, the more her belly shakes. "Are you trying to pass on your sweet tooth?"

He blinks up at her, slow, pondering, gaze heavy. Sometimes, when she looks in the mirror and takes in her new shape, seemingly sprouting overnight, she wonders how he can find her attractive. But when he looks at her like that, she no longer feels as big as the world. 

She _ is _ his world.

"Well, she hopefully won't get much else from me." Logan ducks his head and his hair tickles her stomach; she can feel their daughter kick in reply.

"Logan," she chides.

He doesn't look up.

She tries again. "Looogan."

Still no answer but she can feel his palms sweep soothing circles over her abdomen.

"Lo…" She threads her fingers through the brown strands trailing over her, admiring the way the afternoon sun reflects off each tendril. "I hope she gets your hair." She can feel the smile against her and continues, "I hope she gets your spirit. And your determination. And your ability to overcome every challenge the world throws your way."

Finally, he looks up, eyes glistening. "Well, I hope she's exactly like you."

"A valedictorian who got roped into a gig of criminals and fell head-over-heels in love with one?"

"...well, definitely the valedictorian part."

She chuckles and feels the dull thud of another kick; judging by the awe on Logan's face, he felt it too. He ducks his head to kiss the spot reverently. "Maybe she will be a little bit of both of us."

"That…" he needs to clear his throat to continue and she feels her heart swell. "That would be perfect."

She nods. Right now, watching Logan curve gentle hands around her curves, light of the dipping sun bathing him in angelic glow,  _ everything  _ is perfect.


	15. Chapter 15

Colt sees him in dreams. Sometimes, he burns, skin flaying from his arms and face, and he doesn’t speak, lips coated in ash and only able to make a sickening wail; though it is wordless, Colt still feels the recrimination in his bones. Sometimes, he is whole and Colt can see him in faded snapshots, walking through the garage, jovial arm around Logan, under the hood of a car with Toby, always at a distance. Sometimes, he speaks, vile and twisted words and, even though Colt screams and covers his ears, the abuse seeps into his brain, anyway; though Colt has heard it all before, it stings and he flees, trying to physically dodge the barrage of verbal blows.

When he wakes up, he composes himself, wipes the moisture from his cheeks and gulps water to soothe his frayed throat. The only person who would care lives thousands of miles away.

Colt sees her, too. Some images are memory, the skim of his hand across pink silk, the determined glint in her eye as she sped through darkened streets. Some are imagined, her at college, lost in books and boys, completely forgetting all that she left behind.

He stops sleeping.

Every day becomes an exhausted slog, plans and ideas and schemes running slapdash into one another. Sometimes, he passes out onto his sheets, body too worn to fight. Other times, he can trace the path of the moon, slow and certain, until orange and purple brighten the horizon.

He doesn’t know if he is living or fighting or just fucking waiting.

~~~~~

It has to be a mirage, he thinks, when a pink sports car pulls through the bay doors. When a feisty valedictorian pops out. When she dashes to him and throws her arms around her neck and he, awkwardly, wraps his around her waist.

It must be a dream---except, he realizes belatedly as her tender eyes trace his face, except _no one_ is happy to see him in his dreams. Her delight is foreign, unreal, and he can’t help himself; he pulls her in again, holding her close so he can assure himself of the reality of their moment.

That night, he sleeps.


	16. Chapter 16

Ellie rubbed her eyes, frowning when she realized only 20 minutes had passed. It seemed like she was studying for hours, formulas and theorems spinning under her eyelids. When she told Colt she would pull an all-nighter before her test tomorrow, apparently she wasn’t exaggerating. He had grumbled, trying to pull her away with wandering hands and illicit promises, but she held firm. It would take her forever to finish this chapter, and then she had another, along with corresponding problem sets and flashcards. Her head fully clunked as it hit the wooden desk.

“That looked dumb.”

She jolted up to see Colt padding into the room, hands wrapped around a pale mug wafting steam with every step.

“I...uh….”

“Looks like your studying is going great.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, but took the offered mug from his hands. “What’s this?”

He raised an eyebrow. “What’s it look like?

“Coffee?” She wrapped both hands around the cup, carefully; the ceramic was warm and she could smell the richness of hazelnut, her favorite, mingling underneath the bitter undertone of coffee beans. And when she took a sip, she had to sigh, low in her throat. Whereas she half expected it to be spiked or poisoned or something, this was _perfect_. Hazelnut, piping hot, two sugars, one cream. Just how she liked it.

She was in the middle of her second sip, stomach warming pleasantly, when her mind started. “Why are you being so nice?” Her eyes narrowed.

He scoffed. “I’d fucking kill for you. The least I can do is bring you a goddamned coffee.”

“Aww…” She tried to fight the tears springing to her eyes. After all they had been through, blood and fire and distance and pain, the sweetness starting to race through her veins felt hard-fought, overdue.

She clasped his wrist, leather crinkling under her fingertips, to pull him closer, making him duck his head to meet hers. And when she kissed him, she tasted hazelnut, one cream, two sugar, and happiness. Just how she liked it.


	17. Chapter 17

Colt thought he had prepared for this. He spent the entire drive, over two thousand miles over winding mountains and past rows of cornstalks that swayed and stretched as far as he could see, thinking about what he would say, the phrases he could spin, how he would plead his case. He thought he was ready.

But when she opened the door, all the words and assurances died on his tongue. He had seen her in a million varied situations and moods and even outfits, neon gracing her golden skin, Langston sweatshirt falling enticingly, innocently, off her shoulder.

But he had never seen her like this, wrapped in cozy pastel pajamas, pencil tucked haphazardly behind her ear. She looked warm, comfortable, at home. The girl before him wasn’t one who raced million dollar sports cars through treacherous mountain passes or played star federal witness in a packed courtroom. This was a college student, fully engrossed in studying in her dorm room.

So he hesitated. 

Back home, hesitation often proved fatal. A second’s pause could end in a fiery wreck or a knife in the back or a bullet hole you could never recover from.

Here, it was almost worse because, when he hesitated, she broke into heaving sobs.

He was not prepared for this in the slightest.

He stood, mouth gaping, watching the tears pour from her eyes, his hands slack at his side. _Maybe this had been a mistake_-

“Colt?” Her voice warbled his name around an aching cry.

“Yeah?”

“Is it really you?”

“Yeah?” 

She surged forward and his arms opened of their own accord. The sobs continued as she fell against his chest, tears steadily dampening his t-shirt. He wound his arms around her waist and breathed.

And when she pulled him into her room, textbooks and pastel pajamas heaved to the ground, their reunion lasting hours, both still joined when the first rays of sunlight filtered through her dorm room, he realized he had never been prepared for her at all. 


	18. Chapter 18

He’s softer in the morning.

In the delicate balance of dawn, when the sun begins its ascent in the sky and delicate tendrils of light filter warm and gauzy into the room, he stirs, sleepy and slow. Her breath catches as his arm reaches out, somehow finding her easily, though his lashes still fan over his cheeks His muscles relax as he tucks her against his bare chest.

She loves these moments, when the harshness fades, when dreams of vengeance and retribution fall away to the dreamy haze of sleep. Even his facial features seem dulled, morning light diffusing over the sharp lines of his jaw, softening the harsh edges as she tucks her head under his chin and just breathes. The sheets are cool against her cheek, especially compared to the scorching heat in front of her. Callused fingers duck under her shirt to walk unsteadily up her spine, pulling her even closer, protective arm a comfort where it has settled over her waist.

When he wakes, the world will spin again, harsh edges and sharp tongue replacing the stillness of this moment but, for now, she will relax in his steady hold and let the soft rise and fall of his chest lull her back into sleep.


	19. Chapter 19

“Just seems like it might be kind of distracting...”

“I’ll be fine.” Ellie’s voice is dry, bored, and Colt rolls his eyes.

“... for the instructor.”

She hums and looks out the window, ignoring his comment, tense and silent as the LA skyline flies past.

Hell, it’s already distracting for him and he doesn’t even _like _her. He’s lucky they’re merging onto the 405 and he can mindlessly keep the wheels in the lane, sneaking glances out of the corner of his eye.

The white ties of her sleeve drape flutter down her arms and his fingers tingle, aching to trace the delicate fabric down her bare shoulder and across her chest, tongue longing to taste the strip of skin just hidden from view. Her skirt edges up as she shifts in her seat, the expanse of her thigh both a temptation and a dare, and he wants nothing more than to watch his hand map the curves hidden beneath the tight skirt. He is helpless to imagine sliding the denim further up, pads of his fingers catching on the distressed rips, higher, to hear the moans he could pull from her lips mingle with the dull roar of the engine. His mind takes full hold and he can almost feel her skin under his palms as he bends her over the hood of this import, tangling the necklaces through his fingers as he slides into her, giving even him a reason to appreciate her car.

He shifts in his seat, blinking the highway back into focus. This is ridiculous. He doesn’t even _like _her.

~~~~~

And when she floats down Riya’s stairs, pink silk glowing pale against her skin, he can only gape.

He’s right. He doesn’t like her.

He _loves _her.


	20. Chapter 20

“Did I just get a smile from Colt Kaneko?”

The question makes him bite his tongue, hard, but the shock of pain doesn’t stop his cheeks from twitching. It takes all his focus to pull the corners of his lips down into a frown.

“Oh my god, I think I did!” Ellie puts her hands on her hips, still holding the wrench, and the metal jostles against her unsteadily as she stares at him.

“I don’t think so.”

“I do.”

“I mean…” Colt rolls his eyes, purses his lips, anything to stop his traitorous face. “I do smile.”

“You smirk. There’s a difference.”

He studies her, the confident smile she pulls out easily, disarming everyone, Logan, Mona, Pops, even him. She smiles wider, beaming, teeth a gleam between plush lips, and he narrows his eyes, trying to pull on his fiercest glare. “Weren’t you trying to work?”

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes and turns, walking across the floor towards the open hood of the import Logan is covering with his greasy paw prints. He watches her hips sway the entire way, and his expression is unfamiliar, bordering more on a grin than he would ever admit.

~~~~~

It’s easier to smile in the dark. 

She runs her thumb over the curve of his lips as if trying to imprint the expression, savoring it in the lines of her fingerprints, as if the memory can become ingrained in the swirls and ridges of her skin.

Here, he doesn’t hide it, not from her; she brings it out from muscles long forgotten and heart long bruised. He curls fingertips around her waist, skin warm as his smile; he holds her tightly, as if clasping her close can stop time, can keep her in this bed where smiles run free. He would give anything to forestall her departure, when again joy will be tamped down in favor of hardened stares and bloodied fists.

She dozes, head lolling against his shoulder, clock ticking the seconds down and still, he smiles.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been feeling so inspired...sorry. Trying to get back into it. Pls be gentle.


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